


Sick Bonding

by reigningqueenofwords



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-27 01:25:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18294020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords





	Sick Bonding

Your heels clicked along the quiet halls of hell, until slowly, you could hear the screams of Alastair’s ‘play things’. Whistling, you smiled to yourself when you heard his laughter echo towards you. It had been an odd arrangement at first. Fifty-seven years ago, you had been assigned his ‘assistant’. He’d loathed you at the start, giving you the most menial, tedious tasks he could come up with. It was like a game to him. A different type of torture than the bodily pain the souls on his racks. And you never, ever complained. If anything, the more tedious the task, the more you’d relish in it.

Until one day, fifty years ago, Alistair snapped.

_His thin fingers wrapped around your throat, pinning you to the jagged wall. His piercing blue eyes locked on yours, narrowing. His lips curled into a snarl. “Why is is that I cannot break you?” He hissed. Throwing you on the rack would have defeated your purpose, and your unwillingness to complain, or to gripe about the tasks you were given got under his skin like nothing before._

_You smirked, reaching up and tightening his grip on your throat lightly. “Maybe I like it.” You were just barely able to breath._

Thinking back to that pivotal moment, you put your hands gently on the handles of the door of the room that Alistair was behind and pulled them open. You stepped in, tilting your head to the side, watching him work as the doors shut. “I always did enjoy seeing you all…bloody.” You bit your lip.

The soul on the rack looked at you like you were insane, his chest heaving from the screams that just had been ripped from his raw throat. Alastair chuckled, standing up straight to look at you. “And what can I do for you my twisted love?” He asked, his eyes traveling over your form.

“You told me when to inform you when I found who I want to work on for my birthday.” You grinned, making him laugh. “There’s this pretty little thing. Just getting set up now.” You told him. “She makes the prettiest sounds from what I can tell.” You moved forward, walking your fingers up his chest. “Maybe I can watch you finish up here, and then we can go have some fun together?”

Alastair gave you a rough kiss, causing your lip to bleed. As he pulled away, his tongue darted out and licked some off. “Get comfortable.” He smirked. “We’ll be here awhile.”

Nodding, your eyes traveled to the soul, and then you moved off to the side. You watched as Alastair rolled his shoulders, then paused, giving you a wink. “Flirt.” You chuckled.

“Any requests, my dear?” He asked, his hand hovering over the tools that were already covered in blood.

You bit your lip, thinking. “Scalpel.” You breathed, a shiver running down your spine. “I’ve always loved how something so small can cause so much pain.” You giggled.

“Scalpel it is.” He nodded, his eyes turning back to the panicking soul. “What my love wants, my love gets.” Alastair said in a sing-song voice. Moments later, the room was filled with screams of pure agony. Music to your ears.

* * *


End file.
